


The Prettiest Watermelon

by warmommy



Category: Fury (2014)
Genre: F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, New Baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 14:19:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13976910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmommy/pseuds/warmommy
Summary: Just a little something on the ides of March about Grady’s first baby being born. Family fluff one-shot. Written for my best friend for her Grady!thirst.





	The Prettiest Watermelon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnaGP](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaGP/gifts).



 

For a long time, Grady Travis had believed with all his heart that the entire world was far away from himself, and always would be. Dragged into the war too early in life after working just to eat from the time he was eight, he never truly lived. All that excitement, the devil could take it all. What was it worth? Not a damn thing. Almost everyone he met died, and soon after he met ‘em, too. He stopped smiling, stopped saying hi. He did his work as well as he could with his tank commander in his face, with his best friend holding his hands up to the sky and talking to something that wasn’t there, with his driver constantly shit-faced, and the string of bow-gunners that never seemed to end, until Red. And then Red was gone.

The war was gone, now, though. The bow gunner that came and replaced Red close to the end of it all lay in a bed beside him, hooked up to machines, covered in a soft, white blanket he’d brought from home. Mae was a cut up, right from the start, and she dug her way into his heart, whether he liked it or not. Grady found that he did, though, found that he liked it enough to love her, to quietly ask, sort of beg, for her to marry him.

Mae Travis. Didn’t even sound right. The sound was too harsh, following such a pretty one. She was Mae Travis, though, kicked his ass all the time. It only served to make him smile, make him bring her dogwood flowers from the edge of their property. He did everything for that woman, was proud to be her husband, and he listened to her, always. When she spoke about all the bills and laws that were made to thank all the veterans for all the horrible shit they’d seen and done, he listened. Smartest thing he’d ever done. He had all he ever needed or even wanted, really. A farm, land of his own, a pretty, smart-mouthed woman who made excellent pies, and a daughter. A baby.

A  _baby_.

The hospital bassinet was funny-looking, but she was inside, and he couldn’t stop peeking in and grinning at her. He ran his rough finger up and down her tiny baby fingers and thought about how those hands would never work a day. They’d learn to play the piano, how to ride horses, whatever she wanted. They called her Leila.

He’d load a tank every day for the rest of his life, if it meant this tiny girl never even knew the word war.

Grady had been told plenty of times by his wife, when she was awake, to watch Leila, to pick his daughter up and hold her. He decided to do that again now, because he’d been paying attention to the times, and she was going to wake up soon, and he wanted to see her face. All the little wrinkles and redness, perfect imperfections.

He wrapped her up in her blankets snuggly before he picked her up and her eyes opened. She couldn’t see right, yet, Mae had told him, but that didn’t make a damn bit of difference to his heart. To his heart, she was looking at her daddy for the first time.

A  _baby_. His  _daughter_. Leila. Little Leila Travis, the princess of his soul and conqueror of the world. He wondered if anybody ever looked at him like this after he’d been born. She didn’t have his nose, thank God, or his ears, but she had a head full of black hair, and she wasn’t crying. She was perfectly content, at least for the moment, in sticking her tongue out at her daddy and grunting. He could only watch by himself for a minute or so before he was gently touching his wife’s arm, little taps. “Mae. Mae, look at her. Look.”

The most perfect blue-grey eyes he’d ever seen opened up and she smiled up at him sleepily. Her eyes started to well up like they had every time she lay eyes on Leila, so far. “Aww, Mommy’s baby girl!”

“You okay?” Grady asked at the hoarseness and lethargy in her voice. He was careful, so careful, in passing his first-born child over to her. “You feed ‘er, Mae, I don’t want her to get hungry.”

He loved every feeding, too, like a beautiful painting that hung in a gallery somewhere.

“Oh, she’ll be fat as a killin’ hog,” Mae laughed weakly, looking at their little expert latcher-on. Grady moved the blanket to cover her other breast and to keep his girls warm. “Oh, quit your worrying. I’ll be fine. I had a screaming, eight pound watermelon come out of me today. Look at this watermelon!”

Grady laughed. He’d called Leila that when she was growing quick inside his wife, because it was the only thing Mae ever requested. Tons and tons of watermelon. “She looks way too small to be no watermelon, Mae-bug. She is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Excludin’ you.”

Mae kissed him quickly. “Told you that you’d be the best daddy of all time, didn’t I?”

“Told you I’d always do my best for you and ours, didn’t I?” he responded sheepishly.

“And nobody ever doubted you, any.”

Grady was quiet for a while. It was late in the night, and he wanted his girls to be able to rest, even if he was excitedly watching them both. “I love you, y’know.”

An awful noise disturbed their quiet, and Mae groaned. “I love you, too. Pass me one of those towels.  _Your_  daughter just puked in my hair.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find this and a lot more at my tumblr, warmommy.tumblr.com!


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